Voice: A Story in Three Parts
by QueenGen
Summary: <html><head></head>Hogwarts is as loony as ever. Well, maybe a little loonier. Naive! Harry and Prankster! Draco. Slash.</html>
1. Part One

**Title: **Voice: A Story in Three Parts

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters you see here. That belongs to JK Rowling and other wonderful people that are not me. I also disclaim any rights to the "Braveheart" movie I stole a quote from within the writing of this chapter. Kay thanks.

**Warning: **Honestly, I am probably not going to mention anything about Voldemort. The characters are also probably ridiculously OOC (per usual) and it takes place in their final year at Hogwarts. Rating might go up with later chapters, but probably not.

**Summary_: _**Hogwarts is as loony as ever. Well, maybe a little loonier. Slash HD pairing. Basic understanding of Harry Potter required.

**Author's Note:** Here I am, writing yet another tale for you all. This story is a bunch of silliness with, as usual, no Beta. One day some poor soul will try to teach me how to actually write, but until then I butcher the English language with relish! Crack fic at its worst. I also don't know why I have an obsession with pranks, but I do. Especially dumb ones. There will be many in this story.

"Oh, oh, Draco say it again!"

Harry was not pleased, sitting at the Gryffindor table. Surrounding Malfoy were gaggles of girls from all houses, swooning around the blonde. Unfortunately, there was reason for it. Harry glowered at the Slytherin table as he bit into his corn beef sandwich with a misplaced viciousness, watching Malfoy lean in to speak into Padma Patil's ear.

"Hello, Padma."

Harry rolled his eyes as all the girls swooned. It simply was unfair! How could there be such a thing as justice in a world where Draco Malfoy's voice changed to be the most irresistible, sultry delight Hogwarts had ever heard since Severus Snape's voice changed nearly 20 years ago? The girls continued to squeak, and were occasionally silenced when Draco would say something else.

Hermione slid in next to Harry. "Harry, is everything all right?"

"No!" Harry replied. "No everything is not all right. Look at him!" They both managed to turn in time to hear Draco say, "Isn't it a lovely morning?"

"Oh dear," Hermione remarked, "when did this happen?"

"This morning," Harry groaned. "He just came in with a group of girls around him and he was speaking to them and it's been going on all day! It's just not fair."

"Oh, come on Harry," Hermione said. "It's not that much of a surprise."

"What do you mean ' not much of a surprise'?" Harry asked, "He's supposed to be a squeaky voiced git!"

"Well, I'm sure his 'squeaky voice' was just his voice changing, Harry." Having reached a full understanding of the situation, she reached out and grabbed a muffin to butter.

Harry sulked a little while longer, watching the prat mesmerize all the girls (and some of the lads) within a ten seat radius. Hermione finally persuaded him to stop mangling his food and, with the rest of their Saturday to look forward to, the pair walked out of the Great Hall to find Ron back in the common room working on his Wizarding Chess techniques.

"You've got to be kidding me," Ron said aghast when Harry told him the news about Draco's new voice. "But he's always been such a little squeaky—,"

"Voice Change," his two friends said, one far grumpier than the other.

"Oh, well then I suppose that makes sense," Ron said with a shrug and went back to his task.

"But don't you think it's so unfair, Ron?" Harry asked, hoping his best friend would see what his other friend didn't.

"Is it?" Ron asked. Harry gaped as the other boy shrugged. "I suppose so."

"What do you mean 'you suppose?'" Harry asked.

"Well, I mean the only reason I'd get mad is because he'd be wanting to steal all of our girls, right?...No offense, Hermione." Ron added the last bit quickly, although Hermione just sent him a half hearted glare and continued with her book about...well, erm...something boring. Harry didn't understand.

"So, he's not going to do that?" Harry asked. His two friends stared at him.

"Harry, Malfoy's gay," Hermione said after getting over her friend's oversight.

"Huh?" Harry gasped.

"Yeah, mate. Everyone knows that," Ron responded. At Harry's stunned face, the red head merely patted his friend's back before getting back to what he was working on.

Overwhelmed, Harry stood and walked up the stairs to his dorm before lying down on his bed. Malfoy was gay? Why hadn't Harry ever noticed? Well, it could be largely in part due to the fact he was fighting evil on nearly a daily basis until the end of this past summer.

One week after that day of revelation, much of the hubbub died down around Malfoy(although the occasional sigh could be heard when the honey-voiced Slytherin would answer a question in class). Harry seemed to be the only one struggling at getting used to the new tone though. When the blonde would come up to him and try starting some sort of fight, Harry would turn tail without saying anything at all. Any pranks were ignored, and it soon got to a point of the Hogwarts population wondering just what was wrong with Harry Potter.

Of course, if any stranger asked he would say nothing. If a friend asked him, he'd say he didn't want to deal with Malfoy anymore now that they were nearly adults.

Only to himself would Harry admit that he simply couldn't fight with Draco anymore, because now the only reason he wanted to fight with him was because he was jealous. In any case, who had any right to be jealous of Draco Malfoy?

It was nearly the end of Harry's final year at Hogwarts, and really this entire thing was getting a bit ridiculous. Ever since Draco's voice officially changed, Harry had made the point of ignoring everything about the boy: his taunts, his pranks, his insults were all shunned. Harry thought that, with time, he'd finally be left alone and life would resume the peace it had before Draco had to muck up his life and have the voice of a sex god (according to the general female public, of course).

However, it seemed that good fortune was not with Harry Potter...ever. Not only did Draco persist irritating the living hell out of him, but he began redoubling his efforts! Instead of just going after Harry in the halls, he'd go after him during meals, in class, outside of the classroom door, in the library, by the lake, on the quidditch pitch, in the bathroom for heaven's sake! He wasn't just using cutting words and insults about Harry's friends and family, but he was using other devices. Harry was still unable to get the goop all the way out of his robes from the latest prank that landed him face down in the hallway in front of the Potions classroom covered in red slime. Snape had been a bastard about it, as expected, and made Harry sit with the goo on his clothes until the stench finally made him unbearable to be around, even to the fume-proof nose of the professor.

Harry feared what he would be facing today as he slowly crept down the stairs to the Great Hall early on a Thursday morning. Peeking in, Harry saw he was one of the first inside and, with almost manic glee, grabbed a seat and began piling food on his plate. As he began his meal, Harry kept an ear out for Draco's highly recognizable croon.

As Harry was reaching out for a second piece of sausage, he heard it. He admitted that it really was quite a nice voice, and if Draco wasn't such a bastard Harry might be able to appreciate it with more than the fear he was feeling now. Keeping his eyes averted, Harry awaited what was to come.

Yet nothing came.

What felt like hours later, Harry looked up to see Draco talking to his housemates and casually eating his breakfast. Twitchily, Harry looked back at his own food. Perhaps he should get out now before Draco realized Harry was there. When Harry left the Great Hall, he knew he was in trouble. Any minute now, Draco would come up behind him and attempt to hex his shoelaces together or something.

...Any minute now.

...Any minute now?

Harry turned back and saw that he was, indeed, alone. A few paces back towards the door and Harry again saw Draco sitting at the table looking unbothered. The blonde looked up and Harry nearly bolted at that, but all Malfoy did was cock his head to the side and look at him curiously before turning back towards his housemate and, over all, ignoring Harry.

Maybe this was a trick. Harry would see to the bottom of it.

Yet as the day came to a close, there had been no sign of Draco taunting anywhere. That was saying quite a lot since Thursday was normally a day packed with prank attempts, what with them sharing two classes. Yet nothing was to be wrought upon the poor Gryffindor both to his delight, confusion, and his classmates' misplaced disappointment.

An entire week passed without any sort of interaction from Draco's side. Harry, after months of this incessant barrage, was now more paranoid than ever. He knew there was a trick behind all of this, Harry simply had to gage what it was. Yet, it seemed like Draco was finally putting his pranking days to rest.

Harry was nearly about to go mad.

Going on two weeks, Harry finally had enough. In the library, Harry found the Slytherin studying, alone, amongst the immense bookshelves that filled the ancient room. Harry stood in front of Draco and anticipated his looking up at him, perhaps giving a smirk or a sneer. Maybe he'd shoot out his wand and attempt cursing him, or throw a pie in his face. However, as Harry stood there, nothing seemed to happen. Harry cleared his throat, which caused Malfoy to glance up.

"Ah," the Slytherin said, his voice low and sweet. "Hello Potter."

"Malfoy," Harry said sharply. There was no response as Draco went back to what he was doing. "So, is that it?"

Malfoy again paused and looked up. "Is what it?"

"Are you done with the pranks and the...and the everything?" Harry said, waving his hand to explain all the other horrible things the other lad had done.

"Oh...yes, I suppose so," Draco said with an air of disinterest. Harry stood there gaping like a fish. "Is that all you wanted?"

Instead of answering, Harry made an about face and was about to walk away when Draco's dreamy (according to the girls, of course!) voice called him back momentarily, calling his name. "What is it?" Harry grumbled.

When Harry turned to face the other again, the curious look that Harry remembered seeing in the Great Hall two weeks ago. "What's your favorite color?" Draco asked.

Harry felt his sanity slipping away as he actually contemplated the question. "Why?" he finally asked.

"It's not that difficult of a question to answer," Draco responded.

"That doesn't explain why you want to know what my favorite color is," Harry said. Draco's lip dipped in a slight frown. Finally he said.

"I'm just curious."

Harry just about gave up on this entire enterprise. He sighed and replied. "My favorite color is green."

That made Draco's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh really?"

"Yes, Unfortunately, green's gotten a bad rap recently, but I still think it's a fine color."

Turning around quickly, Harry left the library to contemplate what had just happened, and perhaps bang his head on the wall a few times.

A week later, Harry finally began getting into the routine of not checking around each corner for his rival's next attack. The pranks were really over, it seemed. Of course, Harry was ecstatic about it...

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked over dinner.

Well, at least he was trying to be.

For some reason that Harry could hardly understand, there was a new sensation that was coming over him since this entire debacle started. Sure, it was far more convenient to not have muck to clean off his robes, or new bruises scattering his knees (from falling! Not from anything untoward, honestly!). In general, the peace that had settled on Harry's shoulders should have held the sound of angels and smatterings of fairy dust. Harry—blast it all!—was feeling bored.

Since when did he need Draco Malfoy to make life interesting? It was a question that Harry didn't really want an answer to.

"Harry, you still haven't answered my question," Hermione reminded him.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Harry replied, "nothing's wrong." Hermione and Ron sent each other a look. "Don't do that mental talking thing, you know how awkward it makes me!"

"Sorry," they said in unison, causing Harry to groan again. Ron took the reigns this time. "We just want to know what's got you so down, mate."

"Nothing's got me down," Harry assured them. As they lulled into quiet, Harry distractedly played with his food as he stared vaguely in the direction of the Slytherin table. Ron started to talk about quidditch, but all Harry could manage offering was an occasional 'hmm' in what he hoped were the right places. Again, they descended into quiet.

"You know," Hermione said, a glint in her eye that Harry would have noticed if he were paying attention. "I've noticed that Draco's begun pranking some new people. Although I feel bad for them, I suppose it's nice for a change." She hid a smile as her friend's head popped up in interest.

"What do you mean he's been pranking other people?" Harry asked

"I mean that he's seemed to move on from pranking you. I'm pretty sure I saw him put burping bubbles in Hannah Abbot's soup the other day at lunch," Hermione confessed.

"What? That isn't fair," Harry responded, sounding like he was on the beginnings of an outrage.

"Why isn't it fair?" Hermione asked, "Haven't you suffered enough of his pranks?"

"Because I'm supposed—," although Hermione wasn't able to hear the rest of that thought as Harry shook his head and went on a different train of thought."Malfoy shouldn't be pranking other people."

"Mate," Ron said, finally catching on to what Hermione was up to. His eyes were slightly narrowed as he asked, "Are you _jealous_?"

"What do you mean—of Malfoy?" Harry asked, then scoffed. "Of course I'm not jealous of Malfoy! He's a git, and he needs to be stopped. This has nothing to do with jealousy, but justice and I will put an end to his tyranny!" Harry threw down his cutlery in haste to leave the Great Hall, to the rousing cheers of the Gryffindors—sans Hermione and Ron—and a couple of the Hufflepuffs. Meanwhile, his two friends looked at each other again and quietly resumed their meals.

Harry Potter searched the library, where he had found the blonde git last time, but he was no where to be found. About to search another corridor, Harry was stopped by the low, melodic tone that could only belong to one person wafting in from outside of the library. Walking slowly towards it, Harry was able to pick up that Draco was talking about a project for arithmancy with another student. As he was about to confront the blonde, Harry couldn't help but stop and listen. Malfoy's voice really was a delightful thing. It was low, but not gravelly, and not altogether slick either. It was soft, like dew settled over morning grass, yet earthy like the soil beneath it. It made Harry's mouth dry for some reason, and when he tried to lick his lips he found his tongue stuck to them. A voice far less enticing cleared their throat and Harry snapped out of his reverie. A Ravenclaw staring at him with a raised brow and pointed out without words that Harry was blocking her way.

Embarrassed, Harry moved forward. In his haste, he realized that he was stepping right into the hallway where Draco and his partner—which he now realized was Terry Boot—were laughing together. There was even a musical quality about the git's laughter! It sounded warm, like a fire crackling in a fireplace on a winter night. Such a scene hardly went with the Slytherin persona! It was then that Harry realized that Boot had left and Malfoy was now just watching him in amusement.

"Is there something you want, Potter?" Malfoy asked. Harry shook his head violently to get his brains all settled. He nearly forgot what it was that he came here for in the first place, but he rectified that as he stepped up to the blonde git (who was taller than him too—damn it!) and point a stern finger in his face.

"I am sick and tired of you picking on people, Malfoy," he said, "And I think you should stop right now."

"But I'm not doing anything, Potter," Malfoy replied quickly. "I'm just standing here, minding my own business while you've got your finger in my face." Harry looked at the offending finger then back at Draco. "I would say that right now I'm the victim, Potter."

"Oh, you're such a wanker!" Harry responded in kind. "You think you're so clever, don't you. You think because you're the hotshot Slytherin and because your balls finally dropped that you can just go around picking on people and pranking them? Well you can't!"

Harry was disappointed that all he elicited was an eyebrow raise. Then, Malfoy stepped a little closer to him in challenge. "Oh yeah, and what are you going to do about it? I'm pretty sure I picked on you for nearly all this year and you never said anything before," Malfoy said, and Harry swore he must have been using magic because the croon that was leaving that boy's throat was doing very improper things to his head.

"Because I was _ignoring you_ and hoping that you would _go away_," Harry said, slowly so that even an idiot could understand him.

"Yet here you are, Potter, seeking me out. It all seems rather backwards to me," Malfoy said in mock confusion. Then his smile went a little more crooked, his eyes glinting with a wickedness that Harry happened to miss. "So tell me, why did you really come to find me?" The voice was truly starting to get to him now, Harry realized. It must have been because he didn't allow exposure to it for the past few months that Draco had been bullying him. The other students here had built a tolerance, and Harry was behind because he'd been building a very thick wall between the two of them. Too bad it was crumbling down.

"I came," Harry began but found himself unable to finish, because his damned mind had been sucked in by the Slytherin's voice. It lead Harry to realize that there were more things that were very nice about Draco Malfoy. For one, his hair was no longer greased back, but brushed out of his face and otherwise untouched by product (or at least any product visible to the human eye). His face was still pointed as ever, but the skin that covered it was unmarred by acne or freckles. Also it just so happened that the shirt he was wearing looked rather nice. It was darker than what he normally wore, which was of course the white button up of their uniform. It really made his eyes pop, although something about the color seemed to come out at him. Before Harry could get carried away, he cleared his throat, shut his eyes, and stepped back a little from the boy (when did they get that close?). When he opened his eyes, Harry's resolve was back. "I came because I wanted you to stop bullying the others. If you have a beef with me, then that's fine, but don't force other people to deal with your crap."

Again, Draco reacted in a way that Harry didn't expect. Instead of growing cross, the boy tilted his head and stared at Harry curiously. However, even though it was looking at him, Harry didn't feel scrutinized, although a blush was beginning to coat his cheeks.

"All right," Draco finally agreed. "I'll accept your demand on one condition." Harry knew enough about Draco Malfoy to be wary of the boy's demand, but nodded for the other to continue. "You answer me one question. Are you dating the Weasley girl?"

It took a moment for Harry to realize what the other had asked. "Ginny?" Harry asked in disbelief. Draco didn't respond, only waited for an answer. "Of course not! She's practically my sister." Harry's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

Although there was no great change in the other, there seemed to be a certain lightness that wasn't there before. "Because that was my condition. All right, I promise not to prank anyone else at Hogwarts," he said with a bow. Harry suppressed the desire to roll his eyes. Suddenly, the two were just standing there and Harry wasn't sure if he was supposed to be the first one to leave or Draco. Clearing his throat, Harry was about to bite the bullet and take his leave, but was held back by a hand that was surprisingly Draco's. Looking back, a cryptic gaze met Harry's own and for a moment he was as speechless as he'd been when he really heard the other boy for the first time. The boy cupped Harry's hand for a long moment, then finally extracted himself from the exchange and walked away. When the blonde was out of sight, Harry rubbed his own face for a moment and sighed before walking up to Gryffindor. What a bizarre series of events tonight had been.

When Harry got upstairs, he noticed that a few of the younger years were exchanging knowing looks with each other and back at him. Grumbling about kids these days, he went up to his dorm only to be met by rousing laughter from Dean Thomas, who had been drawing in his sketchpad on his bed. "What are you trying to be, William Wallace?" Dean hooted, kicking the bed in his mad giggling. Seamus looked up and began laughing as well. "' They may take our lives, but they'll never take our freedom!'" they both quoted and fell in heaps of giggles on their respective beds. Harry looked at them in confusion. Neville was the only one who pointed to their washroom where the poor boy discovered that he had blue paint all over one half of his face, where he had rubbed it earlier.

"Bastard," Harry muttered, but he couldn't help a flutter in his stomach. Draco Malfoy was up to his old pranks again. As Harry began washing his face, he realized something.

Draco's shirt had been green. Harry had never seen him wear a green shirt before tonight.

He went to bed that night wondering things about Draco Malfoy, but mostly wondering about himself. Just what the hell was going on?

End Part One


	2. Part Two

**Title: **Voice: A Story in Three Parts

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters you see here. That belongs to JK Rowling and other wonderful people that are not me.

**Warning: **Previous Chapter still applies.

**Summary_: _**Hogwarts is as loony as ever. Well, maybe a little loonier. Slash HD pairing. Basic understanding of Harry Potter required.

**Author's Note:** Well I, ladies and gentlemen, am about to burst with excitement. Somehow, fate has seen fit for a marvelous beta to be tortured by my writing in order to make it far more enjoyable for you all to read. Therefore, for all of her hard work and patience, Zenelia Sky has my full gratitude. So many virtual cookies coming your way, it is insane.

Please review!

**Part Two**

Soon, Harry was in a strange sort of truce with Malfoy. Stranger still—after the last prank of putting ink on Harry's hand, everything had fallen quiet , the lull was not as unwelcome this time.

Harry would never admit thatit was probably because instead of pranking him, Malfoy was being almost pleasant with him. Somehow, the blondwas always able to catch him on the way to lunch or classes; sometimes, Harry would see Malfoy sitting in the stands watching him fly laps around the field. When he would land, Malfoy would insist that he was simply "enjoying the view." Harry didn't quite understand that, since the field was enclosed and the only way to see any of the landscape around it was to fly above it. Still, Draco would wait for him as he washed off and together they'd walk back to the castle and have dinner.

If someone had told him last year that Draco Malfoy and he would be walking side by side in complete harmony, Harry would have laughed till his face turned purple. Yet, somehow—and without any reasonable explanation—they were. It was a Wednesdayas he lay in bed with the early morning sun blinding him out of slumber, that he contemplated the incident that happened the night before.

Again, Malfoy had walked up to him—this time at the library.

Harry was attempting to study, if not to pass the class,then to at least get Hermione off of his back. Why he agreed to take any level of Potions in his seventh year, let alone N.E.W.T., was beyond him. Yet here he sat, poring over possibly the driest text he ever had the misfortune to glance at with a sheaf of parchment begging to be written upon and a quill unwilling to begin writing for him. Again, he cursed the cruel fate of being a hopeless procrastinator as the blank pages practically screamed the deadline for his paper into his skull. So was he truly to blame for nearly jumpingout of his skin when a pair of agile hands firmly grabbed unto his shoulders and held fast?

"A bit jumpy, eh, Potter?" said the familiar, velvet voice. After being exposed to it almost constantly for the past two weeks, Harry'd hoped that the effects of Draco's voice would ease on his nerves. Again, he was out of luck as he barely managed to quell the shivers that wanted to tremble through him. It would do no good to let the Slytherin know the effectiveness of this potential weapon.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" he asked with a sigh, grabbing at his hair for the hundredth time in the past hour. "I'm trying to get work done."

"Is that what you're doing?" Malfoy asked in a tone that Harry couldn't place. Was he mocking him or merely amused? Harry's head hurt. "Well you won't be able to do that if you're so tense."

"How tense I am has nothing to do with it," Harry practically growled. "It's due tomorrow morning."

That inspired a reaction within the blond. Malfoy looked down at the parchment—blank as the day it was bought—then at the text that Harry was attempting to absorb. Suddenly, his hands were off of Harry's shoulders (and Harry did _not_ feel a tingling sensation in their absence) as he picked up a quill to begin circling portions of the text and underlining other sections. It took about five minutes and then Draco rested the quill back in Harry's hand. A zap of electricity shot from Harry's fingers to his brain at the accidental touch which made him slightly alert.

"That's what you need to look at," Draco said finally. "I finished that essay last week. It's easy once you know what you're looking for." Harry nodded blankly and looked at the circled passages, although he felt far too distracted to do anything about them. He nearly forgot that Draco was there at all until again the hands were pressed down on his shoulders. Focus entirely thrown, Harry was about to ask what the other was doing when the intentions were suddenly made known.

Who knew that Draco Malfoy was an incredible shoulder massager? It was all Harry could do to keep from groaning in pleasure. Eyes fluttering shut, he could feel the expert fingers digging into the tense muscles and kneading them until they were almost jelly. Unaware of how much time passed, the hands finally slowed to a stop.

"How was that?" a silken voice asked, almost a whisper in Harry's ear. Intoxicated by relaxation, Harry didn't realize who had spoken until a moment later when he finally opened his eyes to see Malfoy watching him with a look of absolute smugness. "That good, eh?"

"Oh, bugger off, you," Harry said, lazily waving his hand away. He did _not_ feel any sort of butterflies in his stomach as the other laughed and finally stepped away. Although, he did make a show of picking up the quill that Harry must have dropped in the process and placing it in his hand again. Once more, a small spark ran through Harry's fingers. He really ought to have that looked at.

"All right, I can see when I'm not wanted then," the other said. Before he could leave fully, however, Harry did manage to squeeze out a few words.

"Thanks, Malfoy."

The blond turned and grinned wryly at him. "Do try not to fall asleep, Potter. You have a paper to write after all, and you're drooling a bit." Harry quickly swiped at his mouth, seeing that it was dry, then heard the other's soft laughter when he glared back. Draco left with Harry watching after him, which was probably what the bugger wanted. The question was, why?

Harry couldn't be sure Draco wasn't up to his old pranks,after all.

Yetwhat really had Harry thinking was not necessarily that part of his evening (although he was loath to admit the feeling of the blond's hands still ghosted upon his shoulders in memory), but of what happened afterwards. For the first time in his seven years of being at Hogwarts, Harry got kicked out of the library due to curfew. _Dear Merlin_, he thought in horror, _I'm turning into Hermione._ All thoughts of that ceased, however, seeing Draco yet again.

"Don't you have anything else to do than lurk about, Malfoy?" Harry grumpily inquired. Draco merely smiled until reaching Harry.

"I'm a prefect, Potter. I'm supposed to be here. _You_ however are out nearly passed curfew." Harry rolled his eyes but obediently began walking towards the Gryffindor tower. He was surprised that Draco began walking with him, but before Harry could ask, the other answered. "It would be better if I walked you to the Tower, since Filch has been on the prowl recently." Harry nodded blankly and they began walking together.

Suddenly, Harry stopped and looked at Draco. "When did we become friends?" he asked.

Draco stopped as well, but instead of answering,he asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Harry said, "That there is no good reason for you to keep me out of Filch's reach, but you're helping me anyway." Harry took a step closer towards Draco so that they were barely an arm's length apart, hoping to gage an honest answer.

"Do you think we are friends?" Draco inquired. To Harry's surprise, it was asked in genuine curiosity and—maybe Harry was imagining it—happiness. Harry, wanting thetruth from him,thought it only right to give the same.

"Yes, I think we are," Harry replied in earnest. "You helped me with my homework tonight, which you didn't have to do. You're walking with me now so I don't get caught by Filch and..." he tapered off for a moment, wondering if he could trust the other boy not to laugh at him if he kept going. Biting the bullet, Harry continued, "And I've liked talking to you." Harry swore he saw a smile on the other boy's face, but when he blinked it turned into the trademark charming smirk.

"Then I suppose, to answer your question, we're friends now," Draco responded. Harry couldn't help but grin a little. They began to walk again. The silence was comfortable until they reached the stairs to begin their climb to Gryffindor. "So what is it that you do with your friends, eh, Potter? Cause mischief? Start food fights? Talk about your love life?"

"What about your love life?" Harry blurted out and nearly bit his own tongue in embarrassment. It was not even a topic he thought about. Well, at least not besides, if this friendship had been budding until this moment, it was only right that Harry be worried for the other's love life. Still, it was one thing to be worried internally and quite another to let your flapping gob make a fool out of you. About to apologize, Draco stopped him by letting out a shaky breath.

"Eh, well...you get right to it don't you?" Draco asked. Again, Harry was going to try changing the subject, but the other gathered himself and said. "Well, I suppose that now is as good a time as any to make sure you know that I am gay."

Harry knew Malfoy was, obviously, but hearing it come from that sweet voice was a different thing entirely. The only problem was that Harry didn't know how it was different. "Yeah, I know," he said, silently cursing himself for bringing this awkwardness upon them.

"Well then, that's how it's going right now," Draco responded with a smile that twisted Harry's gut in a not-so-pleasant way.

"What? I'm sure there are guys here who...well, you know," Harry said, trying to be encouraging. Draco lifted an eyebrow.

"Yes, I suppose there are."

"See then? Not all hope is lost, Malfoy. You just got to wait for the right, er...bloke to come along." Harry was praying that what he was saying didn't make him sound like he should be in the loony bin. Draco cleared his throat and sounded like he was about to change the subject, which Harry would be ever grateful for, except the direction it went was not to his liking.

"So what about you, Harry? You and that Weasley girl aren't together, that much I've gathered. Anyone else?" Draco asked innocently, although it made Harry feel like he was being backed into a corner.

"No," he squeaked. "I'm not really interested in anyone at the moment." His body spoke otherwise but he was quite confident in his art of ignoring that.

"Really?" Draco asked, surprised. "Absolutely no one? In the whole school?" Harry bit his lip and didn't reply. Malfoy must have took it the wrong way because suddenly, in a clipped tone, he said, "Right, well, if you don't feel comfortable talking to me about it, I understand."

Harry quickly waved his hands and stepped in front of Malfoy, who suddenly looked extremely flustered. "No, no!" Harry said. "No,that's not what I meant...I don't really know what I meant...I'm just, I'm a little confused is all." He stepped back beside Draco as they waited for the next staircase to move in the proper direction. Draco asked what about, but Harry could hardly respond.

They were near the entrance of Gryffindor Tower when Draco asked, "Do you think you could possibly be...?" he left the question hanging. It did not take much deduction for Harry to figure it out.

"Me? A...oh no, no! I'm very, erm, hetero," Harry said nearly stopping when Dracoasked that question and now started walkingeven faster towards the portrait.

Malfoy said nothing,and soon they were in front of the portrait. Harry turned to Draco, who was looking at him in a way that made his stomach squirm in a not-so-pleasant-yet-not-unpleasant way. "Well, thank you for coming with me."

"Of course," Draco said with a slight bow. "What else are friends for?"

They stood awkwardly for a moment.

"Well, goodnight then," Harry said, about to turn around when he felt a warm hand grasp his own making him freeze. Turning, he saw Draco staring at him, eyes glimmering like molten silver in the firelight.

"Goodnight," Draco said, and with a sudden look of resolve,he leaned over and kissed Harry on the cheek.

"Oi!" Harry said, jumping nearly ten meters in the air. "What was that?"

"A kiss on the cheek," Draco said, unruffled.

"But I just told you that I'm not gay!" Harry whispered harshly, looking around himself momentarily.

Draco raised a brow "What? My friends and I do that all the time."

"Oh," Harry said, losing the air under his sails. "Right."

Draco began walking away,but turned around right before he reached the bottom of the stairs. "Although, I hope you remember that while _you_ may not be gay...," an almost toothy grin flitted across the blond's face before he said, "_I _am." And then he was gone, with Harry once again staring after him until he was out of sight.

As he sat on his bed that Wednesday morning, there were simply no clear answers to what had changed in such a short span of time. It was not as if the blondhad changed his attitude towards any of the other residents of Hogwarts. Harry had checked, and all had determined that Malfoy was just as much of a prat as he always had been, for the most part. So if it wasn't a complete overhaul to the personality itself, what had happened to make Draco Malfoy nice to _him_? Harry realized with a start that he'd be late for breakfast if he didn't get ready soon and hurried up to dress himself.

Entering the Great Hall amongst whispers was never a good thing. Usually, the dining area was loud even at the morning hours. But nowpeople spoke in low murmurs amongst themselves. Sitting down with his friends, he asked them what was going on.

"The announcement was made this morning," Hermione murmured, "Draco Malfoy and Daphne Greengrass are engaged to be married within the year." Harry's eyes went wide and quickly he looked around for confirmation to see his friends nodding in agreement.

"But...but he's gay!" Harry exclaimed, to the immediate _shush_ing of all of his friends.

"Keep it down, yeah?" Seamus pleaded.

"But he is," Harry said, matching his tone to their whispers.

"What does that matter?" Neville replied, shrugging a shoulder. "He needs to produce an heir to continue the Malfoy line."

Harry felt as if this was a complete injustice, but before he could say so,Ron spoke up.

"That's how it is, mate. I mean, I'm lucky enough that my mum and dad would rather have me with someone I love, but that's because I'm one of seven. They can afford to have one of us be gay, not that I am,mind," he said, glancing quickly at Hermione who promptly rolled her eyes. "Not to mention that my parents don't really care about things like family titles. The Malfoys aren't quite as lenient."

"But why so soon?" Harry asked.

"Well, we are graduating soon," Dean put in thoughtfully. "I'm sure they want him to be hitched by the time he leaves."

As the others discussed a little more about the topic and then drifted unto other conversation, Harry remained quiet. He noticed now that the Slytherin table was missing its Ice Prince. Deciding to be the one doing the finding, he absently told his friends he would be back before leaving the Great Hall.

Once outside, he looked around seeing nothing that would help him find Malfoy. Almost turning towards Slytherin dungeons to search in enemy territory, he heard a sound that was oh-so-familiar now: the sound of an angel's laughter, Draco. Harry nearly cursed the shiver that coursed down his spine, and ran toward the sound. It turned out Draco was laughing with his wife-to-be, Daphne Greengrass.

Harry watched as they stood close together, murmuring things and occasionally one or the other laughing. Draco was tall, so he towered over the smaller girl, but his head tilted down with a look of such affection that something inside Harry twisted. It felt like a creature clawing at his chest screaming _Why does he look at _her_ like that? He's not supposed to want her, he's supposed to..._ but Harry stopped the monster's tirade firmly. Still, he couldn't help but watch as Draco finally bent down, and Greengrass reached up on her toes and met in the middle with their lips. Harry's mouth went dry and his throat caught with forbidden tension. With a clouded mind, Harry tore himself from the scene and hurried away.

_It doesn't make any sense,_ Harry thought to himself as he practically flew out the doors of the school and made a line for the lake. _He's supposed to be gay! Why did he..._Finally, he reached the water and stood in front of it for a moment, his breath coming painfully back into his chest. _If that's who he wanted then why did he make me..._ again, another thought path that Harry did not want to go sat on the ground, his arms crossed over his knees. As he sat there simmering in confused anger, he grasped his arms and wrapped them around himself tightly. The sky was turning grey,which boded well with his suddenly cloudy mood. He dragged his feet over to a nearby tree and sat underneath it.

_Why am I bothered by this?_ Harry finally asked himself. It was not a question he wanted to think about, but the answer was right at the tip of his tongue and it burned in his chest. "I didn't even know that I was gay," Harry murmured. Realizing he said that out loud, he quickly looked around him; thankfully, he was alone. Slumping back in his spot, Harry slowly let himself come to terms with what he was feeling. First, the whole being gay part.

He supposed it made sense. After nearly seven years, he'd never really been tempted to peek at his dorm mates, because frankly after living with them he'd rather go to bed with Rita Skeeter than any of them. But there were other males in the school, and he vaguely recollected a night he had wanked after seeing how fine Terry Boot's arse was one day they had played against Ravenclaw at Quidditch. _Alright, so I'm gay. But that doesn't explain why I'm so affected by this Malfoy business. _

Malfoy was a snotty, stuck-up prat that made it his life goal to make Harry miserable. His father was a Death Eater, and Malfoy had always been a picture of pureblood elitism. Yet, Harry remembered that Draco also had an amazing smile, and remembered that one time he'd spotted the blondhelping a Hufflepuff first year to the hospital wing during his prefect rounds. Draco also had this way that when his steel gaze rested on Harry, he could hear the blood pumping through his ears, making him nearly deaf to whatever the boy was saying. And the things Malfoy was saying now were not nearly as scathing as they had once been. He was far more teasing now, as if it were all a big joke and Harry was a part of it. Then there was that voice that slid down Harry's skin like honey every time Malfoy spoke, and his touches that sent electricity to his brain.

_Alright, _Harry thought, _ so I like Draco Malfoy. _Somehow, this felt a whole lot worse to acknowledge than being gay. Perhaps that was because the git was going to be married by the time school let out, and now Harry could do nothing but watch and feel his chest twist with pain until finally, hopefully, it grew numb to it.

Content to begin wallowing in newly realized misery, Harry cradled his head in his hands. Chancing a glance back at the castle, Harry caught a glimpse of a bushy-haired head bustling towards him. For such a short girl, Hermione made excellent time and was soon upon him.

"Harry," she said, her tone admonishing. "What are you doing out here? We have classes to attend!"

Harry frowned. Classes were not something he wanted to think about right now. He curled in on himself and rested his chin on his knees, wrapping his arms around them. "I don't feel like going," he grumbled.

Hermione was not pleased. "Harry James Potter, you will be going to class and you will like it!" Although her tone was stern, it earned no reaction from Harry other than a stubborn burrow of his chin into his arms. Heaving the sigh of one-with-the-world's greatest-trials-on-her-shoulders,he slumped down beside him. "Is everything all right, Harry?"

Met with silence, she was nearly going to ask again when finally Harry gave a tiny shake of the head. Irritation soon ebbed away and was replaced by concern. "What is it?" It was silent for a long while as Hermione's brain started turning, wondering what could possibly have caused this turn for her friend. However, the only thing that she could think of any note was that Draco Malfoy was engaged to Daphne Greengrass,as of this morning. A small alarm went off in the clever girl's head and Hermione thought it wouldn't hurt to try.

"I suppose it is nicer out here," she said casually, "away from all of those gossipers talking about that slimy git, Malfoy."Harry tensed, but otherwise there was not much forthcoming. Hermione was about to make another comment when she was interrupted.

"He's not slimy," Harry mumbled. Hermione sophisticatedly did not crow in success at her guess, but instead scooted closer to Harry.

"What was that?" she asked, innocently.

"I said..." Harry began, then faltered.

"Harry?" Hermione prodded.

"He's not slimy," he repeated, clear enough that Hermione did not have to pretend to hear. Harry began to eagerly explain himself. "You see, we—Malfoy and I—we have been getting along recently, and we walk together sometimes. He tells great jokes, and he helps me with Potions and...I think I'm gay."

Hermione blinked. So did Harry. Apparently, both were surprised by the sudden confession.

Unsurprised by the actual content of the confession, Hermione quickly got over it and smoothly inquired, "You think so?"

Harry was still for a moment before shakily nodding his head.

Then Hermione asked another question she knew the answer to. "And what has this to do with Draco Malfoy?"

Her friend did not need to answer with words. The desperation in his eyes was enough. Suddenly, Hermione could not help but wish to wring the neck of the stupid Slytherin who was now causing her best friend so much pain. "Oh, Harry," she said softly. "I'm so sorry."

Harry audibly swallowed and looked away. Hermione, being the great friend she was, decided it would not do for her friend to wallow because of the likes of Draco Malfoy. Suddenly, a bright idea popped into her head.

"But...you know...he's not the only gay boy in Hogwarts, Harry," she hints.

"I don't want anyone else, Hermione. I've only just realized that I…," Harry began. Hermione didn't know how he would continue that sentence. Want him? _Love_ him? Still, she shook her head and pressed forward.

"You don't have to want anyone else. You don't have to _be_ with anyone else," she said. "But you _could._"

Harry looked confused. Hermione got to the point. "Why don't you take advantage of your new discovery and use it?" she asked. "Make Malfoy jealous!"

"But what would it matter, Hermione?" Harry retorted. "He's going to marry Daphne anyway, whether he's jealous or not."

"Are we talking about the same Draco Malfoy?" Hermione asked. "That boy wouldn't do anything he didn't want to do. Why he's marrying this girl at all is a wonder in itself, since he's gayer than Elton John." In fact, Hermione had a feeling this entire scheme was a nefarious plot on Draco Malfoy's part, although she had no proof.

Harry still shook his head. "He probably has no interest in me anyway," he said, sounding like a kicked puppy. Hermione would not stand for that.

"Harry," she began, standing up and looking down on the boy with her hands on her hips, "That boy has been drooling after you since the beginning of the year. All you have to do is show him that two can play at his game! Perhaps this is all a ploy to make _you_jealous." Harry looked very doubtful of that. "And, let's assume that he hasn't been mad for you for the past seven months, are you just going to give up on him because _Daphne Greengrass_ is trying to get in his vaults?"

Seeing the spark of possible interest in Harry's eyes, she sealed the deal. "You have two and a half more months, Harry. Make him see that the _only_ option is you."Then she shrugged, "If you're up for it,that is."

Looking torn for a moment, Harry grinned. Perhaps, he thought, this could be fun after all.

As the two began their return to the castle, neither saw Draco Malfoy step away from the window and walk to class, a small frown on his face.

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